


Target Neutralized

by ScribbleSwamp



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23695720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbleSwamp/pseuds/ScribbleSwamp
Summary: The "war to end all wars" was really no end at all, and in the midst of new threats from the First Order Finn finds himself confronting old memories and even older dangers.





	Target Neutralized

He was six years old, and learning how to kill.

The child known only as FN-2187 did his best to suppress a shiver of fear as Captain Phasma of the First Order watched him and his squad mates critically through her helmet's eye slits. He was but one of the forty girls and boys who had all been lined up on one of the many target ranges within the jurisdiction of his captain, each of them having been issued a blaster that felt far too big and far too heavy even with all of their ~~excruciating~~ special training, and were firing at targets in the shapes of standing humans. Occasionally FN-341, Phasma's current personal taskmaster, would on the captain's curt nod storm over to one of the cadets who was missing their target more time than they hit it, or who was taking longer to reload their blaster than appropriate or who was...well, who must have been doing _something _wrong, and backhand them hard before giving a hurried repeat of the demonstration they had all gotten on how to properly load and fire. So far he hadn't marched over to FN-2187, but he was sure it would be his turn soon enough. But he wanted to put off that pain for as long as possible. So he was careful, taking the time to breathe in, breathe out, focus, before firing the heavy, heavy weapon. So far he hadn't missed hitting the target once, even if a few shots had been a close call. It was just a matter of time before he messed up. He was _sure_ of it. __

_Breathe in, breathe out, focus, fire._

_Breathe in, breathe out, focus, fire._

_Breathe in, breathe out, focus_...and he forced himself to keep his hands steady as he fired even when he heard not FN-341's hurried footsteps but Captain Phasma's clanking stride come over and then stop right behind him. He must have done something really wrong. 

"FN-2187." 

He carefully placed the blaster down and took a second to steady his screaming thoughts before turning and giving a sharp salute. 

"Captain Phasma. How may I serve you?" It was the response that had been drilled into them all, and he couldn't help but feel a tiny bit happy that routine let him recite it without the slightest quaver in his voice. 

FN-2187 could almost feel Phasma smile behind her gleaming helmet. 

"You wish to serve the First Order to your upmost ability, right?" 

"Yes captain." 

"And you want to learn what you can to fulfill your missions efficiently, right?" 

"Yes captain." 

"Good. Then I shall give you a personal demonstration in how to best handle a blaster." 

FN-2187 almost couldn't believe what he was hearing, and then realized that the rest of the range had gone unnaturally quiet. He dared a quick peek around and saw that every one of his squad mates was staring at him and the captain in almost as much shock as he was feeling. He noticed a second later that FN-341 wasn't yelling at them to continue their training either. For some reason, it seemed like Phasma _wanted_ all attention to be on him. Probably to better punish him for whatever he had done wrong. He braced himself, hoping it would be over soon. 

Phasma deftly checked the ammunition and crouched down into a firing position in one fluid motion, addressing him as she did so. "It did not escape my attention that you and only you were compensating for the unfamiliar weight of the blaster by taking the seconds necessary to make sure your shots flew true. In a battlefield you will be surrounded by enemy fire and will have to make use of any weapon that you can, but while the barbarians who oppose us will lack the discipline to aim correctly, those seconds you allow yourself will save your life and the lives of your comrades while neutralizing theirs." 

She confidently fired off two shots in rapid succession, and FN-2187 couldn't help but feel disbelief and admiration when he saw she had hit the heart and the forehead of the target perfectly. 

"But there is always room for improvement. You will need to think about where your targets are wearing armor. What is exposed. How to hit them so that they are not simply incapacitated by completely destroyed. And almost always the best way to do that is to hit them here," she jabbed a finger into his chest, right over his pounding heart, "and here." Her finger rested lightly on his forehead. He could feel her eyes boring into his. 

"Do you understand?" 

What else could he say? 

"Yes captain." 

Phasma's face was well covered, her expression unreadable, but she stood up and twirled the blaster expertly until the handle was facing him. "Now you do it." 

FN-2187 slowly accepted the blaster back before crouching down in the spot Phasma had vacated. He could see the still smoking burn marks from where Phasma had cleanly hit the target. Breathe in. Breathe out. He felt himself to be much, much slower than Phasma's practiced ease, but he still fired off two shots that somehow managed to strike where Phasma had shown him. 

"Good. Again." 

Breathe in, breathe out, again he fired and struck the target as she wanted him to. 

"Again. Finish the job." 

He did so, and his shots were still accurate. He could feel a strange sort of triumph emanating from the armored woman behind him. 

"Very good, FN-2187. And just like that, your target is absolutely neutralized." She moved abruptly to face the rest of the room, almost making him flinch back, and with a single slam of her boot on the cold tile of the practice range brought every member of the squadron's attention squarely upon herself while compelling FN-2187 to scramble up from his crouch and stand beside her. The contempt in her voice was thick as she addressed the assembled children. 

"I have wasted the last twenty minutes of my life watching you incompetents fire at everything but your targets. But in the midst of all the dirt before me it seems one of you have proven himself a diamond in the rough. FN-2187 has not missed one shot, and has now demonstrated how thoroughly he can follow instruction without forgetting them immediately afterwards, unlike the rest of you sloppy brats. And because of it, today he has earned himself double rations and thirty extra minutes of Library Time. The First Order does not reward laziness, or foolishness, or the waste of our resources. But for those of you who demonstrate the skill and the drive to become the soldiers our glorious empire requires, you will be rewarded. Everyone, model yourselves on FN-2187!" 

FN-2187 looked down in what he hoped was a passable imitation of embarrassed pleasure at his captain's praise, but inwardly his heart plummeted. He was pretty sure that after the last time not one of his glowering squad mates would attack him outright whether in a fit of jealously or to try and prove themselves against him ( _"if you have the energy to fight with each other during Sleep Time then you won't mind next morning's Stamina Training for your entire squadron being extended by three hours!" _) but he just _knew _this would mean they would isolate him for their quick, huddled conversations snatched within the hallways between training regimes even more than he already was. He should be happy he was able to do exactly what Captain Phasma, what the First Order, wanted. He knew that. He had been told that his entire life. But besides knowing he would be even more alone after today, FN-2187 couldn't help but feel that he was being slowly but surely enmeshed in something terribly, terribly wrong.____


End file.
